19:1–9 The lament begins incongruously with a question (“What was your mother?”),144 which would more commonly be a feature of a riddle. Indeed, in many respects this chapter is a riddle in the form of a lament. The immediate response (“a lioness”) complicates rather than answers the question, since obviously the mother of human princes was not literally a lioness. The response therefore introduces the metaphorical world of what follows. This lioness raised two lion cubs in turn. The first she reared to catch prey and eat people. In keeping with the metaphor, this may seem to be simply normal behavior for a lion, but the parallel in verse 6 (and in 22:6) suggests that this is reprehensible behavior on the cub’s part. As a result, the surrounding nations responded as ancient people typically did to such a threat to life and limb: following standard lion-hunting techniques, they dug a “pit”145 to capture him and then led him captive to the land of Egypt by a ring inserted through either his jaw or his nose (19:4).

When the lioness saw that the first cub was gone and would not return, she raised up a second cub in his place, who behaved even more arrogantly146 and destructively than the first. He not only caught prey and devoured men but added the widows of the fallen to his harem and destroyed their cities. It is ambiguous whether the cities he destroyed were those of his enemies or those of his own people, devastated as a result of his foolish policies. His roaring terrified the countryside, announcing his perpetual readiness to pounce on his prey. But once again the nations intervened, capturing him in their net and taking him away—this time to Babylon (v. 9), silencing his boastful roaring once and for all. Having acted like a wild animal, he suffered the fate of a wild animal.

The identity of the first lion is straightforward, since the only Judean king to end up in Egypt was Jehoahaz, who was carried there by Pharaoh Neco after only three months on the throne (2 Kings 23:33–34). The second lion cub is more ambiguous; he could be either Jehoichin, whom Nebuchadnezzar exiled to Babylon in 597 BC, or his successor, Zedekiah, whom Nebuchadnezzar would exile in 586 BC.147 Either way, the point is clear: the royal line as it existed in Ezekiel’s day was a dead end. Its princes would end their lives in exile as a fitting punishment for their destructive behavior. Indeed, the actions of both Egypt and Babylon in assaulting Judah and besieging Jerusalem are here shockingly portrayed as necessary police actions for the peace and safety of those dwelling around Judah. It is ultimately the Lord himself who brought them in judgment against the princes of Judah.

19:10–14 The second picture answers the initial question (“What was your mother?”) differently: she was like a vine planted in a well-watered vineyard (cf. the song of the vineyard in Isaiah 5:1–7). Given such advantageous conditions, she grew strong and mighty, fruitful and full of branches. Instead of growing along the ground, however, as one would expect of a vine, she towered aloft,148 producing ruler’s scepters from her stems (cf. Gen. 49:10–11), just as the lion produced lion cubs. Her proud height then led to a great fall. The vine was uprooted and cast down, parched by the hot, dry, east wind from the desert (the Babylonians), and its strong royal stems were burned by fire. Indeed, fire came out of one of the vine’s own stems (likely Zedekiah) and destroyed what remained of the vine’s fruit, so that no strong scepter was left to rule.

In this case, and likely therefore in the first image also, the mother is Judah (cf. Gen. 49:9–11 for both images) rather than the literal mother of the princes, Hamutal. The Lord planted her in perfect conditions, as in Ezekiel 17,149 and she grew mightily. But because of her pride he cast her down from her lofty height, replanting her in a “dry and thirsty land” (Ezek. 19:13), a wilderness rather than a land flowing with milk and honey. The fire from one of the shoots consumed both the fruit (land and people) as well as the other branches (the remainder of the royal house, including his own sons; cf. 2 Kings 25:7). As with the demise of the second lion cub, this meant the end of the road for the royal line of Judah, at least for the present. There would be no Davidic heir to follow Zedekiah. A lament for his funeral could already be sung, long before he himself died, so certain was his fate.